


For the Crime of Love II: Hearts in Handcuffs

by killingsaray



Series: My Only Crime Is Loving You [2]
Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic!Zurena, Drama, Drugging, F/F, Fluff, Fun, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous!Maca, Kidnapping, Sexual Tension, Special Agents AU, Teacher/Student Dynamic, jealous!zulema
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29539251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray
Summary: “I learned so much from you, Zulema Zahir. From how to do my job to how to love selflessly. I wouldn’t change any of it. I love you.”“Macarena Ferreiro, if you die on me, I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?!”ORThe special agents AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Series: My Only Crime Is Loving You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118372
Comments: 76
Kudos: 144





	1. Headquarters

**Author's Note:**

> hey now! we’re back on our bullshit. who gon’ check us, boo? 😂 no but in all seriousness, thank you guys for the continued interest and support with this series. I’m so happy to be back and it’s gonna be a wild ride, lots of bumps and bruises, so stay with me. 🤍✨

* * *

_“The phoenix must burn to emerge.”_

_-Janet Fitch, ‘White Oleander’_

* * *

The smartwatch on Macarena Ferreiro’s wrist buzzed in three-beat intervals, alerting her that it was time to get up. She tapped the ‘stop’ button on the alarm and the home screen came to life. 

01:00, it read. 

It was strange waking up at that time, but she’d gotten used to it. More accurately, she’d gotten used to not sleeping at all on Wednesday evenings.

It showed in the way she whipped back her duvet and swung her sweatpants-clad legs out of the bed and right into the pair of sneakers she’d placed beside her slippers. She tied them in the dark in under thirty seconds — _her personal best, thanks very much_ — and then pulled her phone off of its charger. 

Maca didn’t bother with the light. Not that she needed to. The blonde had learned the layout of her Madrid flat well enough that if she went blind at any moment, she would do just fine. Through the darkness, she headed down the hall to the front door, snagged a bomber jacket and baseball cap from the coat rack and keys from the welcome table. Maca set the alarm and slipped out of the front door. 

She took the stairs of her apartment complex to the basement, slipping through the boiler room and out of the exit. Into the warm night. With the brim of her cap low over her eyes and her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Maca walked down the street behind her apartment complex, frequently searching behind her and the surrounding environment until she reached a car parked at the end of the block whose engine idled quietly. She looked around once more and then opened the door and slid inside. 

“Were you followed?”

“Hello to you too, Saray.”

“Hey, were you followed?”

“No.”

“ _Vale_ . _Vamos_.” Saray put the car into drive and pulled the car out of the spot, immediately making a right turn and they sped off down the street. 

* * *

_Headquarters Bar & Grille, 01:22 AM _

Saray and Maca entered the back door of the establishment and made their way through a spotless kitchen. They pushed open the swinging door that led to what used to be The Academy Bar & Grille. 

Over the last two months, Castillo put a lot of time and money into renovating The Academy. What was already a beautifully laid bar had become something so much more. Its new concept was open and vibrant with high chandelier lighting, more bar space and table seating, and even a bit of a dance floor for the nights when Castillo turned up the merengue music when the money and booze were flowing. And on his slow nights, Wednesday into Thursday morning, he closed early so that Macarena, Zulema, and their team of misfits could come together and try to figure out who the fuck was trying to kill them.

Saray held the swinging door open for the blonde to enter first and she quickly made eye contact with her brunette counterpart. 

Along with Zulema Zahir, there was Altagracia at the rounded table with her and Agents Mónica Ramala and Vivi Quintanilla. Agent Cepo Castro sat alone at a booth with a series of what looked like maps spread out over the table. Rizos stood at a transparent dry-erase board near the bar, writing something in red marker. Agent Triana Azcoitia was at the bar, sitting cross-legged in a bar chair, head deep into her computer. 

“The party has arrived,” announced Saray who sat her laptop down on the table close to Zulema’s and got to work on her assignment. 

They had been at this for two months. Since Macarena’s graduation and subsequent employment at the CNI where she worked under Supervisory Special Agent Magdalena Cruz. She had been assigned a partner, Antonio Hierro who seemed to have a _thing_ against women. Especially strong women. Maca paid him no mind, however. She had a job to do and she would do it regardless of her partner’s snotty attitude. 

Truth be told the thing that kept her going was knowing that she got to see Zulema at work and every Thursday morning at 1:30 in the morning, such as then when Zulema stood from her chair and pulled Maca into an embrace. They never got much time to just be together. Now that they both had enormous caseloads, sometimes requiring one or both of them to travel it had been a rough couple of months. For the both of them.

Maca wasn’t eating much. She grabbed small meals here and there but the stress of a new job and the heartbreak of not being able to see Zulema as often as she wanted was taking its toll. And Zulema could tell. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked. “Alta ordered takeout.”

“I’m okay,” Maca responded, but her stomach had other plans. It grumbled lowly and Zulema smirked. “At least have a spring roll with me. We’re gonna be up all night again.”

Maca nodded. They sat in a corner booth not far from everyone else and ate a quick meal of Vietnamese food.

“I miss you.”

 _I want you_ , Maca thought.

“I miss you too.”

 _I want to eat_ **_you_ ** _not this fucking takeout_ , Zulema mused.

“When this is all over, let’s go to Ibiza. Just the two of us. Lounge on the beach for a few days,” Zulema suggested.

Maca smiled a genuine smile, her dimples appearing. It was contagious because, despite their current situation, Zulema smiled too. “That sounds like paradise, _cari_.”

They engaged in small talk which always seemed to snowball into work these days, so after once Zulema was sure Maca finished her spring roll, they made their way back towards their team and set to work.

Macarena sat atop the bar, one leg tucked under the other, and reread the copies of the notes left by their unsub for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“So,” Triana said, gaining Maca’s attention, “you and Zulema, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Maca stifled a smirk. 

“Why are you here again?” The blonde teased.

“Because Triana is one of the best hackers in Spain,” Altagracia interrupted. 

“In the world,” Triana corrected. 

Altagracia shook her head, smiling. “What do you have?”

Triana tapped a few keys on her computer. “Besides a headache? Not much else. We already know that the license plate Zulema memorized was stolen off of a car that belonged to a retired Dr. Apolo Diego. The SUV that tried to run Maca and Zulema over was found torched just off of highway M-30. No fingerprints and he was smart enough to pour water into the GPS’ mainframe so his whereabouts were lost. Even I couldn’t salvage the damn thing.”

“What about the cigarette butts that Macarena picked up?”

“Testing came back today,” Maca briefed Altagracia, “Unfortunately, they were kept in the ziplock bag instead of an evidence bag for far too long. Whatever DNA evidence that was in there disintegrated.”

Alta nodded seriously. 

Saray interjected, “They _were_ able to pull a partial thumbprint but that won’t do us any good without someone to match it to, and so far, we’ve still gotten nowhere with our list of suspects.”

List was a bit of an understatement. They spent the first month of their secret meetings working down an entire roster of people who may want Zulema dead, starting with the people who she’s locked away during her time as an agent. The families of the people she’d killed in case they were holding grudges. Then there were the people in her personal life who just didn’t care much for her. It was a wasted month. 

Or so they thought. 

Unbeknownst to them, they’d actually spoken to someone close to their unsub without even realizing it, and it would only take one small revelation for them to realize it.

* * *

At some point during the exhausting evening, Maca got up to fill her water glass from the bar tap and when she turned around, she collided with Zulema by accident. 

_They stopped for a split second and looked at one another. Maca gripped Zulema’s shirt and pulled the older woman towards her. She kissed her with fervor, Maca’s tongue slipping into Zulema’s mouth, making her groan softly. They didn’t care who was watching. All they cared about was the raw desire between them that had been building and building and_ **_building_ ** _for the last three months._

_Zulema picked Maca up and sat her atop the pool table and started to lift her t-shirt up and over her braless tits while Macarena worked on unbuckling Zulema’s belt._

_“Maca,” Zulema whispered and squeezed Maca’s tits firmly._

“Maca,” Zulema said, waving a hand in front of the blonde’s face. 

“Huh? What?” The blonde was pulled from her inappropriate daydream by the woman who haunted it. 

“I said are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. 

“No, you’re not. You’re exhausted.”

“No, I—.” 

_I’m horny as fuck_ , Macarena wanted to say. They hadn’t slept together in so long. And no matter how often Zulema assured her that they were still together, it certainly didn’t feel that way to Maca. Zulema kissed her when they met during these secret meetings. But it never went much further than that. She kept their kisses chaste in front of the other agents and Macarena could respect that she didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. 

She could also respect that maybe Zulema wasn’t in the mood because she was too focused on catching her white whale. Or that Zulema’s libido was stagnant because she spent too much time and energy at work. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Maca said with a small smile because how could she express what she wanted without sounding like a complete asshole. “Maybe I am just a little tired.”

“Guys,” Zulema called, immediately capturing the entire team’s attention. That only served to arouse Macarena even more. “Let’s call it a night. Get some sleep and I’ll see you guys at the office tomorrow.”

A few nods of acknowledgment and words in the affirmative sounded as Zulema’s team began to pack up. 

“Are you coming over tonight?” Macarena wondered. 

Zulema was dying to sleep in Macarena’s bed. She was dying to _not sleep_ with Maca. The brunette had been so ready to tear Macarena’s clothes off. It was like torture each time she saw her fully clothed. 

But every time she saw Macarena, the blonde looked exhausted and Zulema didn’t want to come off as selfish. So, she did what she always did: what she thought was the best decision for Maca to get some rest. 

“Not tonight,” Zule replied, pushing stray blonde hair behind Maca’s ear. “You need some sleep.”

 _And if I’m there you definitely won’t be sleeping_ , she thought.

“I doubt I’ll be sleeping. Maybe I’ll head to the boxing gym. Work off some of this energy,” hinted Maca. 

Zulema nodded, clueless as to what Macarena was trying to tell her. “ _Vale_ , please be safe, yeah?”

“I always am.”

Zulema kissed Maca softly and wrapped an arm around her neck pulling her closer. 

“Saray, make sure she gets home safely.”

“I always do.”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Maca said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Zulema kissed her once more and then watched as Maca started towards the kitchen, exiting where she and Saray entered a few hours ago. 

Before Saray followed, she stopped in front of Zulema. “She’ll be safe. I promise.”

“I trust you with my life and hers,” Zulema admitted. 

“Oye, Zule. I know you think you’re protecting her by keeping your distance but,” Saray shrugged a shoulder, “you’re doing more harm. She misses you.”

“Did she say that?” The older brunette asked. 

“She didn’t have to,” explained Saray. “It’s written all over her face. I know I sound like a broken record, Zule, but you have to get over whatever this is before you push her too far away.”

Saray placed a comforting hand on Zulema’s shoulder briefly and then turned to follow Macarena out of the establishment. 

The rest of the team gathered their belonging and said their goodbyes to Zulema until only Altagracia was left. Zulema rounded the bar and pulled down a bottle of whiskey from the wall. She poured herself and Alta a glass and slid it across the bar to her old friend. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Alta asked, knowingly. 

“No, I wanna drink about it.” Zule tapped her glass against Alta’s, not waiting for the other woman to drink as she downed half her glass. 

Alta waited. Quietly. Patiently. Until Zulema finished her first glass and then poured another. 

“What the fuck am I doing? I feel like history is repeating itself.”

“So change the course of it. Rewrite it. Do whatever you have to do to catch this guy so you can give yourself and Macarena the life you deserve to have. The longer you worry about what’s going to happen, the more clouded your mind is and that’s not helping.”

“How?”

Alta picked up her glass and sipped from it. “It seems to me there’s only one way to draw this creep back out into the open.”

Zulema squinted at Alta, quickly figuring out what she was saying. “You want me to use Macarena as bait?”

“Bait is an ugly word. But it seems like we’ve been at a standstill for the last month. No communication from this guy as long as you’re away from Macarena. Maybe if you two are seen together having dinner or a romantic stroll through the Royal Gardens. Hell, if you’re just seen going into her apartment complex, you never know. It might make him angry enough to slip up. And that’s all we need is one mistake.”

Zulema sighed. 

On one hand, if she kept Maca at a distance, her relationship was doomed. If she pulled Maca too close, she was in harm’s way. 

Zulema had a choice to make. She knocked back the second drink and hoped beyond hope that she would make the right one.


	2. Panic! At The Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: not everyone's symptoms of panic disorder or PTSD show in the same way, so the symptoms in this fic will be from my own personal experiences.

Three months. 

That was how long it’d been since Maca had been stretched taut in the catapult of criminal psychology and slung forward without anyone to be there when she crash-landed. 

And she did. 

Hard. 

She’d learned that the job was not only physically taxing, but mentally as well. That wasn’t the worst part, though. The worst part was not being able to talk it out with the one person who could understand more than anyone. 

About a week after the graduation celebration at Cruz, Zulema had stopped wearing the sling for her dislocated shoulder and all but bullied her doctor into clearing her for duty. She did so as long as Zulema promised not to do any heavy lifting and remain on desk duty for at least three weeks. That lasted for less than a week. That worried Macarena. She was afraid that Zulema wasn’t taking care of herself, and completely disregarding her own safety. 

At the very least, Maca had the privilege of seeing Zulema around the vast corridors of the CNI buildings, and while it was always brief, Zulema made sure she shot Maca a playful wink or linked their fingers for a moment. It didn’t serve as reassurance that she was okay, but at least she was still alive. Still Maca ached for Zulema. And Zulema yearned for Macarena. 

It didn’t help that the blonde and her misogynist of a partner were “floaters”, assigned to assist on two or more cases a week. They were usually there to provide “a fresh set of eyes” and watched by a supervisory agent to make sure they followed protocol. At times, Maca felt completely useless with the busywork she was given. Still, she persisted.

It finally took its toll about three days after their last night meeting at Headquarters. Maca got up early on her day off, went to the boxing gym and worked off a little steam. She came home, showered and realized that she had nothing else to do. No dishes. No laundry. She didn’t have to clean anything. 

There was just  _ nothing.  _

A deafening silence that reminded her of what used to be. Maca was so used to always having  _ someone _ around and now things were so different. She hated it. 

And it upset her. So Maca cried. For what felt like hours, but had only been about twenty minutes before a loud knock followed by the buzz of her doorbell forced Maca to attention. She wiped the blurry tears from her eyes and reached into her nightstand, retrieving the gun she used for work. 

Not expecting anyone, she peeked her head around the corner of her bedroom and when she didn’t see or hear anyone, she started towards the front door, both hands on her gun, pointing it to the side just as she’d been taught in training. The doorbell buzzed again and she flinched a little. 

“Maca, open the door. We know you’re home. We saw your car outside,” Rizos’ voice called. 

“Jesus,” Maca breathed. She undid the chain and the locks, swinging the door open. “I could’ve killed you.”

“Jesus, Rambo,  _ relaja la raja _ ,” Saray joked. She stepped inside, followed by Rizos and Nerea. 

It was also good to see Nerea. Her recovery had been nothing short of a miracle. After she’d awakened from her medically induced coma, Nerea’s brain swelled with fluid again and she’d seized once. They decided that they would cut into her skull to drain what fluid they could and relieve the pressure. She’d flatlined and was revived and the day she walked out of the hospital, a procession of her fellow academy cadets and officers saluted her as she was wheeled down the hall to her car. Rizos seldom let Nerea out of her sight ever since. 

Saray and Nuria had been dating for a while now and Maca loved it. Nuria was good for Saray; kept her in line while simultaneously encouraging Saray to be her authentic self. 

Maca was happy for them. Everyone’s relationships seemed to be moving forward at a steady pace. 

Except her own. 

“What are you guys doing here?” She said, wrapping an arm around Nerea’s neck, pulling her into an embrace. She repeated the gesture with Rizos and then bumped her fist with Saray’s. 

“We haven’t heard from you since the last meeting so we came to check up on you.”

“I’m fine guys,” Maca lied. 

“Yeah, the .45 caliber greeting we just got says otherwise,” Nerea teased. 

They followed her down the hall to her bedroom where Maca climbed back into bed, putting her service pistol on the nightstand. Saray belly-flopped onto the bed and turned into her side, propping her head up with her hand. “Talk to us.  _ Que paso _ ?”

Rizos sat on the other side on the bed and Nerea found a spot on the bench at the foot of it. 

“I’m just exhausted. Long work week.”

“Are you sleeping?” Nerea wondered. 

Maca shrugged. “A few hours every night, I suppose.”

Saray shook her head. “You need more than that. What’s keeping you awake?”

“Besides the guy trying to kill me or my girlfriend?”

“Touché,” Rizos nodded. She could tell by the red, puffy eyes that Maca had been crying not long before they arrived. Reaching over, she squeezed Maca’s hand. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“That would be amazing, but—.”

“Perfect,” Saray interrupted before Maca could protest, “because we have reservations in thirty minutes.  _ Vamos _ !”

* * *

_  
Azotea del Círculo, Madrid, 13:13_

When they arrived at Azotea, they met up with Nuria who was waiting for them outside. She’d just gotten off of work at the prison and had come right over. The hostess eyed Saray like a piece of meat as she greeted them to the restaurant.

“Vargas, party of six. We’re a little early.”

“Not a problem. I can accommodate you,” the younger woman answered as she picked up six menus.

“Can we sit out on the patio?” Saray inquired. The girl would’ve given Saray a million euros if she had it by the way she nodded eagerly. She led them through the restaurant to open French doors that led to the outdoor seating. It was a beautiful day and Maca enjoyed the way the sun shined brilliantly while also being thankful for the umbrella that shielded their table from too much of it. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and dropped her handbag into the empty seat beside her. 

“Halloween!” Saray announced the moment they were seated. 

Rizos, Nuria, Nerea and Maca groaned. 

“Saray,” Maca rolled her eyes, “it’s August.”

“Never too early to start planning. I’m just making sure everyone puts it on their schedule for October. There will be no shop talk. No work, just vibes.”

“The only person that needs a two-month warning is Zulema.” Maca joked.

“My ears are burning. Who’s talking shit about me?” A familiar husk inquired. Maca turned to see Zulema being escorted to their table by the same young hostess.

 _Ah_ , Macarena thought, _so that’s why Saray reserved six seats instead of only five_.

“Saray was just bringing up her Halloween party,” Nuria told her.

“It’s August,” Zulema replied.

“That’s exactly what Maca said,” Nerea laughed.

Zulema stopped behind Maca’s chair and tugged gently at her blonde hair until Maca leaned backward and looked at Zulema upside down. The brunette took Maca’s cheeks in her hands and bent at the waist to kiss her lips. Zulema pulled out the chair beside her and Maca moved her handbag, hanging it on the arm of her chair.

“Maca also made a very good point. We have to tell you things early because you’ve been so goddamned busy.” 

“Well, it’s funny you mention that,” Zulema segued only to be interrupted by a waitress who had come to take their orders. They started with a round of drinks, and when she asked if they needed another minute for food, it didn’t appear that anyone did. Except for Maca and Saray.

“Wait, do you guys still have that cobb salad with the little vegan bacon bits?” Maca asked the waitress.

“Oh!” Saray exclaimed. “The one that we both liked last time?”

“Yes!” Maca replied with the same amount of enthusiasm.

“It was too much for one person, though. Do you want to split it?”

Zulema watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. Rizos watched _her_. The brunette was unaware that Macarena and Saray had become such good friends that they were having lunch together. 

“Yeah,” Saray shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

“Vale. So, a cobb salad and a jalapeño margarita.”

“You said it was too spicy,” Saray accused, turning to the waitress. “She won’t drink it. Just a regular margarita for _la_ _rubía_.” 

The waitress nodded, grinning at their banter.

Meanwhile, Zulema was beginning to feel like she was at a party where she was no longer having a good time. 

It was an alien feeling. One that she didn’t like.

Maybe Saray was right. Maybe she was losing Maca. Certainly not to Saray. Zulema was certain her best friend would never betray her in that way. But her obsession with this case was causing her to miss a lot. And the last thing Zulema wanted was to lose her neither her friendships nor her relationships. 

It reminded her of the old adage: when one is close to losing something they love, they hold on for dear life.

She had to admit, though she hated the idea of putting Maca or any of her friends in harm’s way, she would be killing two birds with one. Zule would be able to be with Maca and hopefully close this case once and for all. 

Drinks were served by the time Rizos remembered that Zulema was going to say something before she was interrupted. 

“Zulema, you were saying something about not being so busy,” she said, clearing the conversation path for Zulema to finish. 

“Yeah, but it actually requires everyone’s help.”

The girls leaned in, listening intently as Zulema explained what Altagracia had told her. 

“My only stipulation is that none of you are never alone.” If you’re in public, you’re in pairs and you’re alert? _Entienden_?” 

“So, basically we’ll be walking targets?” Rizos replied. There was no malice in her voice and no hesitation. She was simply stating the obvious. Zulema nodded. 

“ _Más o menos_.”

Maca was sick of this asshole, whoever he was, ruining all of the good things in her life. She just wanted things to go back to normal, whatever that looked like. And to start the beginning of the rest of her life with Zulema, and if this was the only way, she was in. 

“Well,” Maca interjected and held up her glass, “here’s to hoping this _hijo de puta_ isn’t a trained sniper.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Rizos agreed. 

“You already know how badly I want this fucked,” Nerea shrugged and held up her drink. She’d been hurt badly by this guy and she was more than ready to see him brought to justice. Even Nuria, who was still semi-new to their friend group, was in. 

“Whatever I can contribute, I’m here.”

Zulema looked around at each one of them, her grin slowly turning into a grateful smile. She held up her drunk lady and they toasted one another. 

* * *

Despite the heavy subject matter at lunch, Maca was beginning to feel a bit better by the time Rizos called her that evening. 

“Get dressed. We’re going to Cruz.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me come in there and dress you myself!” Saray’s voice came through loud and clear.

Maca rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Fine. I’ll be down in ten.”

 _What did she have to lose?_

Besides, being out to lunch with her friends had been a lot of fun regardless of the serious conversation. She got to see Zulema outside of the drab ambiance of the CNI building _and_ Maca found that she loved Saray’s company. She’d seen more of Saray than she had anyone else in the last few months, even Rizos. Because Saray was the one to pick Maca up and drop her off during their weekly secret meetings at Headquarters, they got to know one another much better. The brunette had a way of making everything seem just that much brighter. It was a wonder to Macarena how she did it because she worked with criminals who had a wide range of psychological problems, but somehow, Saray never brought her work home with her. The blonde realized she could learn a lot from the _gitana_.

A few minutes later, Maca had slipped a pair of loose mom jeans over a spaghetti-strap bodysuit, tossed on a pair of stilettos, and pulled in her hair back into a messy ponytail. Comfortable, but still dressy enough to meet the requirements of Cruz. She met Rizos and Saray at Rizos’ car and they sped off towards the club.

The place was already packed when they arrived, but they managed to bypass the line with Saray’s help. First stop: the bar to start the night off with two rounds of tequila shots. 

“Valbuena, what time is it?”

The bartender checked his watch. “Quarter to eleven.”

“I’ll be back. I have to go make sure the tables are set up for Zule,” Saray called over the music.

“Wait, what? Zulema’s DJing tonight?” Maca asked.

“Yeah. Well, she’s taking over my set. She wanted the practice. So,” Saray knocked back the rest of her drink, “surprise.”

Pure excitement had bubbled up inside of Maca’s chest at the prospect of seeing Zulema. Sure enough, almost fifteen minutes later, Saray stood at the DJ booth, starting her set and shouting into the microphone to hype the crowd up. Not long after she’d started, Zulema pulled herself up onto the stage. Maca grinned. She looked so _different_. In an ash gray t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and combat boots, Zulema was the epitome of comfort and Maca loved to see it.

Zulema slipped a pair of corded headphones around her neck and opened a second laptop positioned to her left. Saray shared a few words and then they both looked out into the crowd before Saray pointed in the direction of Rizos and Maca. Zulema’s eyes followed Saray’s arm and her eyes twinkled happily when she spotted Maca. The blonde pressed her fingertips to her lips, subtly sending a kiss to her girlfriend. Zulema pretended to catch it and held it to her chest before she turned back to the laptop.

It was strange to Rizos, how Saray had to point them out to Zulema. Rizos had noted a long time ago that no matter where either of them was in the room, Zulema and Maca had always managed to seek one another out. She didn’t comment on it. Instead, she placed it in a mental box and pulled Maca towards the dance floor as Zulema seamlessly meshed a new song into the old one. 

They were dancing to the music, having a good time, when an enthusiastic someone to Maca’s right accidentally knocked her into someone else. Annoyed that Maca had fallen into them, that person pushed her back into Rizos who caught her with ease.

Rizos hurled a series of insults at them, only stopping when she realized that Maca’s nails were digging into her forearm. The blonde was panting heavily and looked as if she was going to faint.

In an instant, Maca had flashed back to Zulema pushing her to the ground and hitting her head before she could be run over by an SUV. All of the emotions from that night hit her like a freight train and it was too much. 

“Maca? Maca are you okay?”

Maca’s vision blurred slightly and her hands were shaking. She managed to shake her head and immediately she felt herself being led through the crowd. Her body was on autopilot and she felt as if she had no control over it at all. 

Rizos pushed past the line for the bathroom, ignoring the protests of women who had been waiting and steered Macarena to the sink where she leaned her against it. Rizos set to work, pulling paper towels out of the holder and running a few under the faucet to dampen them. 

“Maca?” She lifted Maca’s chin and Maca tried to meet her eyes. The blonde focused on them, listening to Rizos’ voice telling her that she was okay. Rizos’ worst fear was that Macarena had been drugged because she couldn’t answer any questions. 

Finally, Maca was able to respond. “I don’t know why this is happening?” She gasped for air between each word and Rizos dabbed her fast with the wet paper towel. “I feel like I’m drowning. I keep thinking about graduation night.”

“ _Rubía_ , I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.” Rizos had never seen the effects of panic disorder or PTSD first-hand, but Macarena was showing a few symptoms of both. With everything that they’d been through in the last few months, alone, Rizos was concerned that Maca hadn’t talked to anyone about her problems. Not even to Rizos, herself. Maca was keeping everything bottled up and it was unhealthy. 

“You have started a new relationship, managed to keep it a secret for as long as you could, lost a friend, got threatened by a serial killer who was _still_ after you, broken up with your girlfriend just before final exams for your graduate degree, sort of got back together with your girlfriend, was almost run over by a psychopath and started a new, extremely demanding job. All in the short period of nine months, give or take,” explained Rizos. “No wonder why you’re having a panic attack in the club right now.”

“I’m fine,” Maca tried, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Though her heart was still racing a mile a minute. 

“You’re not fine, Maca. You’re traumatized.”

“I can handle it.”

“Talk to someone,” Rizos took her friend’s hands in her own, “please.”

It was clear that her best friend wasn’t going to give up until she agreed, so Maca nodded her head. “ _Vale_. I will.”


	3. The Jealous Type

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only reposting because I’m drunk and stevie said “fuck them kids, post it anyway.” so... here or whatever. 🙄 happy belated birthday, mo. 🎈

* * *

“I don’t know, Rizos. I’m just irritable, I guess. I probably won’t be good company for _Temptation Island_.”

“You always say that. You’ll feel better once you have a glass of wine.”

Rizos wasn’t wrong. Besides, Maca had been whining about how much she missed her friends and wanted them over more. Plus, this didn’t break Zulema’s rule. It amplified it. Even if someone was watching Maca’s house, which she often felt they were, she wouldn’t be alone. 

Safety in numbers.

“The girls are excited. We’ll be there soon.”

“ _Vale_. See you soon.”

Their call disconnected and then there was a knock on the front door. 

“Rizos,” Maca chuckled as she made her way down the hall, “you should have told me you were already here.” Maca swung open the door to be greeted by Zulema Zahir’s smug face.

“Then that would have ruined the surprise.”

“Zulema,” Maca breathed, stunned. Every emotion that Maca had been feeling over the past few months suddenly stopped. Or rather, they were drowned out by the absolute shock and desire that swept through her entire body at the sight of Zulema leaning against her doorway looking every ounce of edible. 

Maca grabbed Zulema’s wrist, yanking her inside. As the door slammed closed behind them, Maca pulled Zulema into a searing kiss.

“What are you doing here?” She asked when they finally pulled apart. But Zulema wasn’t here to talk. That much was clear. 

The brunette’s fingers worked on tugging Maca’s shirt out of her jeans and then unbuttoning them. Her mouth chased Maca’s as they stumbled down the front hallway.

“Did you check the peephole before you opened the door?” Zulema panted into the next kiss. Maca grinned, dimples deepening.

“No.”

“Why not?” Zulema teased, lifting Maca’s shirt over and off before going in for another kiss.

“I like a little danger,” Maca joked.

“I’ll show you danger.” Zulema nipped at Maca’s pulse point and grabbed her waist, hoisting the blonde up. Maca wrapped her legs around Zulema’s waist. One hand encircled Zulema’s neck and the other rested against the older woman’s face. 

“I missed you,” she murmured. 

It was _painful_ how much Zulema had missed her too. She felt Maca’s absence every morning that she awoke and every night before she went to sleep. 

“I missed _you_ ,” Zulema replied and kissed Maca again before lying her on the couch and settling between Maca’s thighs. Maca lifted Zulema’s plain, white t-shirt until her cool hands reached her breasts.

“We have to be quick,” Maca panted. “The girls will be here soon.”

Not that it mattered. They were both so wound up from months of sexual frustration, neither would take very long to finish. 

Zulema could do it quickly. Although she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wanted to spend the next eight hours absolutely _ruining_ Macarena Ferreiro. But she would take what she could get. 

Except she didn’t get much because the moment she shimmied her hand inside of Maca’s pants, the sound of the door slamming shut interrupted them. 

“Yo, yo! The party’s here, and I brought alcoh— _oh_! Shit! Sorry,” Rizos turned on her heels the moment she spotted the two on the couch and gestured for Luna and Yolanda to wait in the hall. 

“Rizos,” Maca huffed, as she and Zulema worked quickly to fix their disheveled appearances, “ that key is—.”

“For emergencies, I know. But this was an emergency.” She covered her eyes and held up the wine bottle. “It sounded like you needed alcohol quickly.”

Zulema stood from the couch and helped Maca up. 

“We do now,” Zulema replied, taking the wine bottle from Rizos’ hand and headed towards the kitchen. If she wasn’t going to get laid, the least she could do was get a little tipsy. Not that Zulema was big on drugs or alcohol, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And she _desperately_ needed something to take the edge off. 

* * *

“That’s bullshit!” Rizos and Maca yelled at the same time. 

_Temptation Island_ had only been on for twenty minutes before Zulema realized just how seriously Maca and her friends took the show. They’d even created their own drinking game based on the cliché moments. Zulema, amused by their excitement, sipped from her wine glass and rubbed Maca’s scalp as the blonde lay her head back on Zulema’s lap. She’d even gotten into the habit of pointing out the moments when they were supposed to drink if the three drunk women before her forgot their own rules.

“He’s gonna cheat on her,” Luna prophesied, “and she’s gonna see the clip at the next bonfire.”

When the next commercial break came around, Zulema’s phone buzzed in her pocket. 

“Is that your phone?” Maca asked, getting up so Zulema could retrieve it. 

“No, I’m just happy to see you,” Zulema shot Maca a wink as she unlocked her phone. 

The blonde headed to the kitchen with her friends to refill their wine glasses. When Maca returned, she watched as Zulema chuckled at whatever she’d received and replied to it. 

“What’s so funny?” Maca asked, handing Zulema a fresh glass. 

Zulema shook her head. “Something ridiculous that Alta sent.”

The show resumed and Maca returned to her spot on the couch, stretching out and laying her head on Zulema’s lap. But the brunette never returned to stroking her hair. She was too busy texting Alta throughout the remainder of the show. 

Maca didn’t know why it annoyed her, but it did. She didn’t think of herself as the jealous type, but things changed. She hadn’t gotten Zulema alone for months and when the potential for some intimate time arose, Zulema was more focused on responding to Altagracia.

So when the girls left, Maca feigned a wide yawn, masturbated in the shower to finish what Zulema had started, and fell asleep with her back turned to her… Zulema.

* * *

“You’re a lifesaver, _tía_ . _Gracias_.” Maca took the overnight bag from Rizos and slid it under her desk. She’d forgotten her gym clothes at home and she planned on going straight to the gym after work. It would have been out of her way to go home first, so Rizos volunteered to bring them to the CNI building.

“I hope everything is in there. Agent Skinny at the front desk damn near told me to bend over and cough before I could bring it in here.”

Maca laughed. “Yeah. Agent Roz is very thorough.”

“Since I’m here, and was practically violated, the least you can do is show me around.”

“This is pretty much it.” Maca gestured to the beehive of desks. 

“You don’t have your own office? That’s bullshit.”

“Nah. I’m thrown wherever they need me. I’m not complaining though. This week they have me working with Altagracia and Zulema’s team.” No doubt, it had been Zulema's call to pull Macarena off of her assignment. They still hadn't talked about the night before, but Macarena knew that Zulema sensed that something was off.

_And thank god, Maca had thought, that she had the sense to mention that she only needed Maca and not her sexist partner._

“All work and a little play? Sign me up.” 

Maca chuckled, “There’s not much time for play. Besides, Zulema and Altagracia are always holed up in Alta’s office like secret squirrels.”

“Well,” Rizos said, mischievously, “it would be rude for me not to go and say hi to my old professor.”

“Rizos,” Maca hissed. But it was no use, the curly-haired troublemaker was already walking up the small steps to reach the platform to Altagracia’s office. Maca caught up to her, and the door was ajar. They peeked inside to make sure the two weren’t busy with something important.

Zulema was leaning over Altagracia’s desk, hands curled around the edge. Alta sat in her chair, arms crossed and smiling cheekily at whatever Zulema was saying. She let out a laugh and then Zulema drew her attention back to the paper before them.

It wasn’t suspicious in the least, but the way Altagracia looked at Zulema as if she hung the stars in the sky made Macarena uneasy. The blonde could feel her body warming at the idea of Alta having a crush on Zulema.

“Why is she so hot?” Rizos looked at her best friend, noting the expression on her face, and then back to Alta and Zulema. “You want me to kick her ass, _rubía_?”

“No,” Maca replied, distractedly, “I can handle her on my own.”

“ _Vale_ ,” Rizos responded before bursting into the office, “Professor Zahir, it’s so good to see you!” 

Zulema turned at the familiar voice. 

“They let anyone in here these days, huh?” Zulema grinned as Rizos plopped down in one of the spare chairs opposite Alta.

“It’s nice to see you again, Rizos.” She held her hand out over her desk to shake.

Rizos took her hand and shook it, not letting go as she appraised the brunette. “You’re cute.”

Maca facepalmed herself, shaking her head. She knew this was a bad idea.

“You’re engaged,” Zulema reminded her.

“Engaged, not blind,” Rizos told Zulema before turning her attention back to Alta. “Do you have a gun?”

“Multiple.”

“Have you ever used it? On a perp, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

Alta smiled, perfect teeth showing. “Something tells me it’s not my gun you want to see, _morita_.”

Rizos looked Alta up and down. “I like you.”

“ _Igual_ ,” Alta replied. 

“Okay, I was just showing Rizos around. Now that she’s seen all there is to see, I’ll walk her out.”

“But--,” Rizos gestured at Alta.

“Let her stay,” Alta permitted. “Let her see what a day in the life of a CNI agent looks like. Zulema and I were just about to start building a profile with the team.”

Zulema and Maca gave each other a look. 

Rizos gave them both an exaggerated pleading expression, hands clasped in front of her. “Please, mom and dad?”

Zulema looked up at the ceiling and then relented, “Fine, _vamos_.”

The four of them left Alta’s office and made their way back down the stairs and to the center of the bullpen. Zulema put two fingers into her mouth and let out a loud whistle, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. It was sexy. Maca grinned. 

“ _Oye_ , _gente_ , _escúchen_!” She said loud enough for everyone to hear. “First, I want to say thank you for continuing to work diligently on this case, regardless of its fruitless results. Today, Alta and I have decided that we need to start building this profile.”

“Exactly! So far, Zulema and Macarena have received three messages in total from this guy. We know that he wants her attention. Why?” Alta asked. 

As she spoke, Alta turned on the projector with the click of a remote that she’d pulled out of her pocket. The screen to their left illuminated, revealing the two notes that Zulema received from the unsub as well as the one that had been left on Macarena’s windshield. 

“Because she’s the smartest one in this room? Maybe he thinks she’s the only one intelligent enough to catch him.” Vivi answered. 

“Why? How does he know this? Does he know her personally?”

“Maybe he was one of her students,” Mónica spoke up. 

“We’ve ruled that out. What else?” Alta dismissed. 

Zulema rested against a desk and studied the notes, eyes whipping to and fro. 

“Maybe he _was_ a student,” repeated Mónica. “Not necessarily Zulema’s but maybe he was a student that didn’t cut it. Zulema was the head of the criminal psychology department, maybe he feels like if he can stump her, he proves something to himself.”

Altagracia clapped her hands together once and then pointed at Mónica. “Now we’re talking! What else? What are we missing?”

The bullpen remained silent. 

“Come on, people. Those fancy degrees aren’t just for show! What the fuck are we missing?” Alta shouted. 

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Agents looked at one another. 

Cepo stood up from his desk and stood in front of the projector, blocking everyone else’s view. His hand raised and he made small invisible lines in the air, from picture to picture, piecing something together. 

Zulema watched him as she pushed off of the desk she was leaning against, standing to her full height. 

Maca looked at her. 

Slowly, Cepo turned to the quiet room, and told the agents, “He’s not a student. Not anymore.”

“What do you see, Cepo?” Zulema asked him. 

Cepo focused on Zulema, eyes not quite reaching hers, but found a spot on her face as he built up the confidence to tell her, “He’s a doctor.”


End file.
